


Gingerbread Kisses

by Spinsomnia



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Boyfriends, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Cute, Fluff, Food, M/M, Mistletoe, No Angst, One Shot, i got hungry while writing this tbh, klance, klance one shot, klancemas, this is just pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 10:53:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17099249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spinsomnia/pseuds/Spinsomnia
Summary: Commission for @royaloof on tumblr!It’s Keith and Lance’s first Christmas together, and Lance finds himself stuck when he’s supposed to be baking gingerbreads for his boyfriend despite lacking the necessary culinary skills. With so much that could go wrong, and so little time to make the date go right, can he pull everything off to make this Christmas with Keith as perfect as he’s always wanted?





	Gingerbread Kisses

“Okay, okay… and then the flour goes… where?”

Allura sighed on the other end of the phone. “Honestly, Lance. They’re only gingerbreads. It’s not that difficult.”

Lance ground his teeth, staring at the mess on his counter before him in despair. He probably should have got dressed _after_ he’d managed to get the batch of what were supposed to be gingerbread men in the oven. But alas – his favourite blue sweater and black trousers were a collage of flour and sugar. He checked the time. _Damn._ He only had half an hour before –

“Allura! I’m running out of time! And – and I haven’t even managed to get them in the oven!”

Allura laughed. “You’re a disaster.”

Lance grumbled in response, brushing the flour and sugar off the countertop onto an impressive heap on the floor. She _wasn’t_ helping. Or rather, he was just terrible at following instructions.

The doorbell rang, sending Lance and the baking tray he’d picked up almost flying.

“Ahhhh, gotta go!” He said, hanging up on Allura and springing about the kitchen, trying to remove as much evidence of his culinary failure as he possibly could. His boyfriend wasn’t due to arrive for another half an hour, why was he so early?

Lance gulped down his panic and strode to the doorway, ready to face his shame full on. But on the bright side, at least he’d be seeing his boyfriend again…

He flung open the door, bracing himself for the overwhelming sparkle of his partner’s gorgeous eyes when –

“SURPRISE!”

Lance blinked. Half because he was shocked and half because his two friends were so obscured by the flurry of the blizzard that had started up that he couldn’t quite make them out.

“Hunk? _P-Pidge_?!”

Wrapped in yellow and green scarves and hats respectively, they shook off the layers of thick, fluffy snow (giving Lance an icy shower he certainly wasn’t prepared for) and stomped their feet on the matt, pushing past him into his house.

“Ah, it’s warm!” Pidge exclaimed, flinging off her hat for a very startled Lance to catch.

“Don’t mind if I dooo!” Said Hunk carrying a bundle of something in his arms and marching to the kitchen with militant purpose.

_“Guys!”_ Lance fired from the doorway, utterly bewildered. He slammed it shut when the snow began piling up on his carpet. “No offence but – what are you doing here?”

“We knew you’d be panicking right about now” – Said Pidge, stretching out on the couch in front of the fire Lance had painstakingly built exclusively for this night.

-“So we thought we’d come to lend a hand!” Hunk finished for her from the kitchen. “Woah, did a bomb explode in here?”

Blustering with a mixture of embarrassment and confusion, Lance stormed into the kitchen after Hunk to find his friend looking around at the piles of flour and failed gingerbread men with disdain, his hands on his hips in an unmistakably motherly fashion.

“You clean-up while I bake.” Hunk instructed, sounding more like a commander than a mother now as he unwrapped the bundle he’d brought. They were cooking utensils and more ingredients for gingerbread men.

“But”- Lance tried to argue.

“Clean!” Hunk ordered, shoving a sponge into his hands. “We’ll be done in twenty minutes.”

Lost for words, Lance stumbled back into the front where Pidge was tip toeing over the fireplace with armfuls of Holly.

“And what are _you_ doing?”

Pidge smiled sweetly at him. _The devil’s smile._

“I’m in charge of ambience.” She explained as though it was obvious. “You want the mood to be just right, don’t you?”

Lance opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish, turning crimson at Pidge’s implication. He whipped out his phone and typed furiously.

**_Lance:_ ** _Allura!! You told them????_

**_Allura:_ ** _Hahaha_

**_Lance:_ ** _Merry Christmas. Traitor._

With that, he put his phone away and got to work. Despite his confusion and panic at how quickly time was slipping by, he felt a deep surge of affection for his two best friends. They _knew_ how nervous he’d be and took it upon themselves to come and help him out. Even so, he kept up the façade of a grumbling irritated old man for the sake of his pride. Which was in absolute _tatters_.

Twenty minutes later, his kitchen was clean, the oven was glowing and filling the house with the delicious scent of gingerbread and the front room was decorated with Holly and Mistletoe, all tied together with an 80s-music playlist playing in the background and a roaring fire casting a warm radiance over everything.

Hunk and Pidge wrapped themselves back up in their cocoons of knitted scarves and hats, readying themselves for the blizzard.

Lance led them to the doorway, somewhat flushed.

“I err – I don’t know what to say, guys. Just… thanks.”

Hunk grinned. “You owe me a batch of gingerbreads.”

“Wha”-!

-“ _Kidding._ Remember to take them out the oven in fifteen minutes.”

Pidge reached up with enormous effort to ruffle Lance’s hair.

“You two enjoy yourselves. Go get yourself cleaned up.” She said with a wink.

All of Lance’s blood was rushing to his face again. He’d be passed out before long.

“Heh. Thanks. Later you guys.”

And then Lance was left alone with ten minutes to spare and a coil of nerves bundling in his stomach. He licked the sugar off his fingers in an attempt to soothe it, but instead he felt _more_ apprehensive. Which was dumb. It wasn’t as if he and Keith hadn’t ever spent time alone before it was just… this was their first Christmas together. And he wanted it to be perfect. Lance glanced at the tinsel-decorated tree in the window where Keith’s present lay, roughly wrapped and waiting to be opened. What if he didn’t like it? What if he got _bored_? What if - ?

Lance banged his head against the wall to force his stupid ‘what if’ thoughts to shut up. It was fine. Everything would be fine.

Lance bounded into his bedroom and flung his flour-covered sweater and pants under the bed, hastily pulling on a fresh pair of black jeans and the only clean sweater he had left. It was a Christmas one – one of those ugly, obnoxious pieces decorated with rows of reindeers and snowflakes and candy-canes and all the things Lance loved in real life at Christmas but _not plastered across his body during a date._ He sighed, eyeing himself critically in the mirror. He looked so _dumb_.

Deciding that staring at himself in the mirror and muttering insults at himself probably wouldn’t do much to settle his building anxiety, Lance padded back into the kitchen where he stared at the perfect little gingerbread men in the oven as they slowly turned a delicious golden-brown.

He glanced over his shoulder at the closed front door, watching fat snowflakes dance across the window panes. Still no sign of Keith. _Of course not_. There were still two minutes until he was due to arrive. Every nerve in his body buzzing, Lance filled himself a glass of water and downed it in one, loving the feeling of the cold water sliding down his throat, clearing his head. But the feeling didn’t last long.

Bang on seven o’clock, the clock on the wall chimed, and Lance startled. He shot to the front room, sitting stiffly on the couch in front of the fire, waiting… waiting for the doorbell… waiting.

Two minutes later, Lance jumped up and begun to pace, fiddling with his phone in his pocket. Two minutes was nothing. It wasn’t exactly late. Yet. His phone vibrated and he whipped it out so fast his wrist clicked with the action. Ignoring the sharp pain that ensued, Lance opened the message and –

His heart sank.

**_Hunk:_ ** _Remember to take out the Gingerbreads!_

Hunk was right though, and despite his disappointment that it wasn’t his boyfriend, he was glad of the reminder. He definitely would’ve let them burn. The last thing Lance needed tonight was _more_ disaster.

Bouncing to the kitchen, Lance freed the gingerbreads from their inferno prison. They were incredible. Just the smell made Lance’s mouth water. He wanted to eat one. But not _alone_ . Where in the _fresh hell was Keith?_

Sure he would go crazy if he didn’t do _something_ , Lance pulled out his phone again and typed a message to his boyfriend to make sure he hadn’t forgotten.

**_Lance:_ ** _Hey! :) Just wondering if you’re on your way :)_

Three minutes passed with no reply. Lance began to think the worst.

**_Lance:_ ** _The roads are slippery so be careful if you’re driving!_

One minute later:

**_Lance:_ ** _Of course you’re driving. I’m so dumb ha ha._

Two minutes later:

**_Lance:_ ** _Ignore me. I’m rambling._

Ten seconds later:

**_Lance:_ ** _Actually please don’t ignore me. I need to know that you’re safe._

Thirty seconds later:

**_Lance:_ ** _Are my messages coming through? Is signal bad? I can’t tell if you’re just not seeing these or if my signal has gone because of the blizzard._

**_Lance:_ ** _KEITH PLEASE REPLY I’M LOSING MY MIIIND._

Lance threw his phone on the couch with a frustrated shout.

“KEITH!” He yelled into the empty room to the soundtrack of _Livin’ on a Prayer_. “WHERE THE HELL ARE Y”-?

The doorbell rang, and for the second time that night, Lance jumped out of his skin. He ran to the door, ready to throw a tirade of stress-fueled yelling at his boyfriend when:

His frustration melted away faster than the snowflakes that flurried into the warm room.

_“Keith.”_ He breathed instead, because it was all he could muster at the sight of his boyfriend in the snow at his doorstep. The tip of Keith’s nose was bright pink, exposed to the cold, and he wore a thick, fleece-lined leather jacket over a bright red scarf. His fluffy black hair, slightly overgrown, was threaded with snowflakes. Some of them even clung to his ridiculously long eye-lashes, through which he gazed at Lance with huge, dark eyes.

“S-sorry I’m late.” He said, teeth chattering, “Traffic was s-something else.”

Lance hardly registered his words as he stood, gaping in the doorway. How did he manage to forget how gorgeous Keith was? How could he ever have been angry?

“D-don’t worry,” He stammered in response, stepping aside to let Keith inside, “I’m just glad you’re here.”

Lance’s heart was racing and his thoughts had tangled into an incoherent ball of knitted nonsense at the sight of his boyfriend wrapped up and covered in snow.

Keith let out a deep sigh of relief and delight as he made his way inside, shivering.

“It’s so warm…” He exhaled – a calmer imitation of Pidge’s earlier exclamation, “And it smells – _wow_ it smells amazing.”

Lance was tingling with excitement as he thought of the gingerbread ready and waiting to be devoured on the countertop.

Keith turned to him, beaming. “It looks great in here.”

“Thanks.” Said Lance, unsure what to do with himself as he stood there, hands in his pockets. _Calm down,_ he told himself, _calm down, calm down calm down –_

“Err… want some coffee? O-or water? Or… something?”

Lance could hear the collective face-palm of his ancestors watching over him with shame. Good lord.

“No thanks.” Keith replied, unwinding his scarf. “Where should I”-?

-“Oh.”

With a haste that probably gave away how nervous he was, Lance took Keith’s scarf and jacket and placed them on the coat hanger.

If Lance thought Keith’s outfit before had knocked him for a loop, he wasn’t prepared for this one. He was far more elegantly dressed than Lance was; he wore a dark wine-coloured shirt, a few buttons open to reveal his pristine collar-bones, and his hair was tied at the nape of his neck, giving it such an effortlessly flawless air that Lance’s breath hitched and he was forced to look away before his knees gave way.

“You look really good.” Said Keith shyly. He coughed. “Like… _really_ good.”

Was he _serious?_ Lance gaped at him again, his mouth moving but no words appearing.

“Speak for yourself.” He blurted, heat rising from his neck to his face. He let out a short breathless laugh, “Believe me, I wasn’t wearing this before.”

Keith raised a brow. “No? But it’s very…” He eyed Lance’s sweater and smirked, “ _festive_.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Ha ha.” He said sarcastically. “I ruined my first outfit trying to err – bake gingerbread men.”

Keith’s eyes lit up. _Cute._ “You baked gingerbread men? Can I see them?”

“Well err – _I didn’t make them really_ but – _NO_ – you’ve gotta sit down! I’ll bring them out.”

Keith smiled fondly as Lance bustled into the kitchen, ordering him to sit and make himself comfortable. Hands shaking, (seriously, why was he like this? He felt like a kid on a first date) Lance transferred the gingerbreads to a plate, before carrying them out waiter-style into the front room.

“Voila!” He exclaimed, setting them down on the small wooden table on the couch.

“So _that’s_ what smelled so good.” Said Keith. When Lance sat beside him, he caught the flavour of the cold outside on Keith’s hair and a hint of citrusy shampoo. Lance was busy thinking that Keith smelled far better than the gingerbreads when an icy hand touched his on the couch cushion.

“Jeez!” He hissed, taking Keith’s hand and rubbing it. “You’re freezing.”

“Oh,” Said Keith, looking down intently at their joined hands. “Guess I am. Good thing you’re hot.”

His face coloured immediately and Lance had to hold back a laugh.

“Well, thanks.” He replied, amused.

“I mean – I didn’t mean – well you _are_ but that’s not what I was”-

It struck Lance, then, that maybe Keith was just as nervous as he was. That maybe they were _both_ dumb idiots who easily got into the habit of overthinking everything they said in front of the other. Just as he had the thought, Keith’s eyes met his and he said sulkily,

“Stop laughing at me. I was doing so well.”

Lance laughed as he said, “I’m not! You’re just…” he felt butterflies flutter in his abdomen again, “really cute.”

Keith snorted in what Lance could only guess was his apparent attempt to be the complete _opposite_ of cute.

“Yeah, right.” He mumbled, turning scarlet. Their hands were joined in Lance’s lap, and Lance had taken to rubbing small circles on the join of Keith’s wrist with his thumb. Keith was biting his lip and staring at the action.

“Sorry, should I”-?

-“No, no… don’t stop.”

Lance smiled, his heart performing acrobatics in his ribcage and Keith squeezed his hand tighter.

“I’m still cold.” Was Keith’s excuse, so Lance used that as _his_ excuse to fling his free arm over him and draw him into a half-embrace on the couch. Keith responded with a happy sigh, letting his head rest on Lance’s shoulder.

_Surely_ Keith would be able to hear how fast his heart was beating.

“I’m glad I finally made it.” Said Keith quietly, “You have _no_ idea what it’s like out there.” Lance nearly wanted to say ‘ _you have no idea what it was like trying to get this place ready for your arrival.’_ But he bit his tongue. Keith didn’t need to know that.

“Yeah… I was getting pretty worried about you for a sec there.” Said Lance.

Keith craned his neck toward him, pulling away slightly.

“You were?”

“Yeah!” Said Lance, “Did you not… get my texts?”

Keith blinked. “I didn’t check my phone.”

_Damn._

“Oh,” Lance laughed nonchalantly, “That’s cool just… delete the messages from me then. You don’t have to read them.”

Keith narrowed his eyes. “Why not?”

“It - no reason!” Lance was a terrible liar, and he knew it. “I’m just saying! It’s fine now! There’s no need!”

But Keith was already pulling out his phone. In his panic, Lance flung himself over Keith, reaching for the phone, but Keith was quicker.

“Nuh uh!” He teased, standing up and holding the phone high above his head while Lance lay across the couch in despair, ready to be humiliated again. _Why had he sent those stupid messages?_

Lance scrambled to his feet, poised to lunge again.

“Keith, I’m _serious_.” He said through gritted teeth, which only made Keith smirk more. “Don’t read ‘em.”

“Why not?” Said Keith, cocking a brow again. In spite of his frustration Lance couldn’t ignore the twinge in his abdomen at Keith’s mischievous expression. He was in his element. “You seem pretty defensive over it. Why don’t I just…?”

He brought his phone down to unlock it and Lance took his chance, leaping on Keith like a wildcat with a cry not dissimilar to the animal’s. They both fell to the soft carpet in front of the fire, grappling like high school kids.

“Gimme the phone, mullet!” Lance growled.

“No way!” Said Keith, tucking his hands behind his back, lodging the phone between him and the floor. There was no room for Lance to tease the phone out of his grip from underneath him. He was straddled on top of Keith, heaving for breath, glaring down into his smug boyfriend’s face with defeat.

“Now _neither_ of us can see it!”

Keith shrugged. “I’ll see them eventually.”

Lance pouted, desperately trying to think of another excuse.

“You’re acting as though there’s something incriminating on there.” Said Keith.

Lance sighed, dropping his head and letting his hands fall to Keith’s waist where his shirt had ridden up to reveal bare, white skin.

“There isn’t,” He said, absently tracing shapes along Keith’s exposed waist, causing his boyfriend to blush crimson, “It’s just _embarrassing_ . I sound so… _clingy_.”

“Who says I don’t like clingy?” Keith muttered.

Lance looked at him, downhearted. “Don’t tease me. I’m serious.”

“So am I.” Said Keith, all traces of a smile gone. “I like you like this, Lance. I like it when you…” He glanced away, tipping his face toward the fire where the glow danced across his sharp features, casting brilliant shadows.

“Go on.” Lance prompted, pinching Keith’s sides.

“Now _I’m_ embarrassed.” Said Keith, biting back a smile. “I like it when you’re clingy. I don’t know. It’s not annoying to me. It just means that you care. I’ve never had anyone care about me like this before. The fact that you want to know where I am all the time, it’s… it’s amazing.”

Lance went dizzy as all the blood in his body rushed north to colour his cheeks.

“You’re right. That _is_ embarrassing.” He joked, though it was evident from the way he hid his face and rolled off Keith to disguise his smile of pure euphoria how much it meant to him.

“Shut up.” Keith laughed, sitting up and elbowing him.

“No, _you_.” They gazed at each other, and Lance saw Keith’s eyes drop to his mouth. His panic got the better of him. He stood swiftly, making for the tree.

“I err… got you a present.”

Keith blinked from the floor, the colour dashed on his high cheekbones not quite faded after their tumble on the carpet.

“You did?”

“Yeah! Wanna open it?”

Keith’s mouth was ajar. “Wait!” He said with urgency, “Let me get yours if we’re doing this.”

“ _Mine_?”

“ _Yes_ , yours. I got you one too, you know.”

Lance should have expected it. Of _course_ Keith would get him a present. But it hadn’t even crossed his mind. He suddenly panicked. What if Keith’s present was way better than his and he felt guilty? What if he’d spent loads of money on him?

Lance shook his head as Keith ran out of the house to his car. The _what if’s_ were back again.

Keith returned a minute later, snow back in his ruffled hair, a package in his hands.

He beamed at Lance as he shut the door, his nose pinker than ever. Lance strode forward and enveloped Keith in his arms.

“You should have worn your jacket.”

“It was only a few seconds.” Keith argued, burying his cold face in the warm crook of Lance’s neck.

“ _Still_. You’re cold again.”

“I don’t feel it.”

“You’re so stubborn.”

“Yup.”

They broke apart, smirking at each other. They’d never change. It would always be like this. Except now their arguments revolved around taking care of each other rather than who could beat the other. Although there was _still_ a bit of that, which was more than fine with Lance. There was no one else in the world he could be this competitive with and _still_ fall in love with.

Keith shuddered as he adjusted to the warmth, contradicting his comment that he didn’t “feel it.” Lance chose not to call him out on it and ushered them both to sit by the tree, where Keith’s present lay ready and waiting.

They paused.

“Who first?” Asked Keith.

“You open yours first - actually, no. Wait. Yeah… I don’t know.”

“For crying out loud.” Said Keith, reaching for his badly wrapped present before Lance could dither any more.

He watched with fierce apprehension as Keith pulled apart the wrapping paper with nimble fingers, not rushing but not being overly slow about it either. Lance tried his best to sit still. _Please don’t hate it_ , he thought.

Keith’s mouth dropped open as the present was unveiled and he let out a small, breathless:

“ _Woah_.”

Lance had bought him a brand new pair of shiny leather boots. They were lace-up knee-highs - all black except for trim red piping along the sides. Shiro had helped Lance pick them, and judging by Keith’s reaction they were _perfect_.

“Your old ones were looking kind of old,” Said Lance awkwardly, “I dunno. I thought it would be practical seeing as you’re riding around on that bike all the ti”-

Lance got no further. He was knocked backwards as Keith flew at him, throwing his arms around his neck and saying, muffled into his shoulder,

“Thank you, Lance. You… _really_ didn’t have to.”

Lance laughed, his relief making his heart soar as he wrapped his arms tightly around Keith in return.

“It was no problem. I wanted to.” He struggled to get his breath back as Keith latched onto him like a boa constrictor. “And you said _I_ was clingy.”

Keith nuzzled into him, his nose still icy from the blizzard.

“Thank you…”

Lance sat up, bringing Keith with him, and managed to detangle them both.

Keith was beet red and smiling. Leaning forward, Lance planted a soft kiss on his forehead.

“So you like them?”

“ARE YOU JOKING? I love them! They’re so…”

“You?”

“Yeah.”

When Keith tried the boots on over his torn black jeans, Lance felt his mouth go dry. Looking that good should be made illegal, he decided, and he had to distract himself by opening Keith’s present.

“Mine feels bad in comparison to yours now.” -

-”Keith”-

-”Like, I’m sorry in advance.”-

-” _Keith”_ -

-”I’m a bad boyfriend.”-

-”Keith shut the hell up and let me enjoy my god damn present from my favourite person on earth.”

Keith’s lips clamped shut and he coloured again, turning away with a muttered, “okay…”

And really, Lance had no idea why Keith was so worried. He was speechless as he lifted the gift from its wooden box. Lance wasn’t good with trees or anything like that, so he had no idea what type of wood the little carving was made from, but it was streaked with auburn veins and embedded with tiny turquoise stones where its eyes were. It was a dolphin, poised as though it was leaping right out of the water. Its tiny crystalline eyes glinted when they caught the firelight, giving it an uncanny liveliness.  

Lance made a conscious effort to close his mouth.

“D-did you make this?”

Keith squirmed, ripping apart pieces of spent wrapping paper. “Yeah…”

“Holy…” Lance couldn’t fathom words as he turned over the little carving in his hands, watching all the ways its eyes caught the light and lightly thumbing the smooth, polished wood. It was perfect. It was _more_ than perfect. It must have taken hours to make.

“Lance, are you - DON’T CRY!”

Whatever dignity Lance had somehow managed to keep ahold of shattered as stupid tears ran down his cheeks, splashing onto the dolphin carving. He wiped them away furiously.

“Jeez, I’m - ignore me - oh my god, this is _not_ how I wanted it to go - just - ugh.”

Keith couldn’t stop from grinning as he reached over and thumbed Lance’s tears away.

“It’s that bad, huh?” He said sarcastically.

“This” - _sniff_ \- “is the best” - _sniff_ \- “present I have” - _sniff_ \- “ever got.”

Keith chortled softly, “You’re crazy.”

“Tell me about it.”

Lance stood, sniffing and wiping his sleeve across his face as he gently placed the carving over top of the fireplace. It looked just right nestled amongst the Holly, its teal eyes winking back at him.

Keith stood, and Lance’s eyes immediately fell to Keith’s legs.

“Okay, you can’t wear those boots in front of me.”

“Why?”

“Because I swear to god I will actually”- Lance stopped as he realised they were both stood under the Mistletoe Pidge had tied to the low-hanging lamp. They both stared up at it for a solid second, the aged tradition they both knew so well _literally_ hanging over their heads.

“Very smooth, McClain.” Keith drawled.

“I swear I didn’t stand here on purpose.”

“That’s a shame,” Said Keith, making his move. But instead of kissing Lance, Keith snagged one of the warm gingerbread men from the plate and pressed it to Lance’s lips.

Lance took a bite gratefully.

“Delicious.” He said dryly, “goes great with the taste of my tears.”

“Let me try.” Said Keith, and before Lance knew what was happening, Keith was leaning over to kiss him. Trying to kiss and chew at the same time was a lot harder than Lance ever imagined it would be, and when Keith pulled away there were crumbs around his lips. His eyes twinkled with that mischievous light as he licked them away.

“You’re right,” He said, smirking, “delicious.”

After that, Lance was sure gingerbread had never tasted better. And it had nothing to do with Hunk’s baking.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much @royaloof for commissioning me. YOU'RE AMAZING!  
> Details for how I take commissions can be found on my pages @spaladin on tumblr if anyone is interested! Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed this Christmas Klance one-shot :) x MERRY CHRISTMAS! x


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